As Roland grew in years and in youthful graces, he became a favorite with the peasant boys of the village, and, in spite of his ragged clothes and his humble abode, was soon made their leader. But there was one lad in Sutri who had no love for the stalwart young mendicant. Oliver, son of the governor of the town, and consequently a youth of high station, conceived quite a dislike for him, and a feud existed between the two until it was ended by Roland in a most singular way.
Meeting the son of the governor on neutral ground one day, the fiery young cave-dweller proposed that they settle their quarrel with their fists. Oliver, being in no whit a coward, quickly consented. The contest which ensued was a long and stubborn one, for the two lads were very nearly equally matched in strength and endurance and courage. Finally, however, the half-clad, disowned nephew of Charlemagne stood triumphant. The quarrel was indeed settled; for Oliver, being a lad of mettle, and loving and admiring valor wherever he found it, arose from his honorable defeat the sworn friend and admirer of his doughty conqueror.
And the friendship of Oliver meant much to the poor lad who had defeated him. It often meant food when he was hungry, and clothes when he was cold, and always insured him support in all the boyish contests in their native village. But, better than all these, it meant to Roland the loyal, lifelong devotion of a comrade who became as part of his own soul.
While Roland was yet only a stripling, the great emperor, Charlemagne, passed through the town of Sutri, and while there dined in public on the village green. Now the young Roland had not yet come to the age when he could provide for his mother and himself. The times were hard with them--especially hard on this great feast-day of the emperor, for they were hungry, and knew not where to turn for food.
Now it chanced that Roland, fierce with the fierceness of the half-starved, came suddenly upon some of the emperor's attendants just as they were bearing trays of rich viands to place before their master. The sight of food and the thought of his mother's sufferings instantly swept all things else from the lad's mind. Rushing upon the attendants, he wrested the viands from them, and made off to his mother's cave before they could realize what had happened.
When the emperor was informed of the incident, his brows knitted in deep thought, for he had dreamed a dream on the night before, which troubled him sorely. He had seen the fierce, half-famished lad in his vision, and had been warned to follow him.
After a moment's thought, Charlemagne dispatched three of his knights to find the boy and bring him to the royal presence. The three who were so commissioned had little trouble in finding the lad, but they came near having a serious conflict with him when they attempted to enter, uninvited, the cave he felt to be his castle. His mother, however, restrained the impetuous youth with her pleadings, and the messengers of Charlemagne entered.
When Bertha learned that the knights had come from the emperor, she disclosed to them her own identity and the identity of the lad they had come to seize. This was Roland's first knowledge of his great lineage, and he heard and beheld as in a dream, as the knights knelt before his mother and promised to obtain for her the emperor's pardon.
Dazed, dreaming still, the gaunt, sinewy lad took his way to Charlemagne, in company with the knights who had been sent to fetch him. But in the presence of his emperor,--his kinsman,--the dream feeling passed, and Roland rose to the occasion with the pride and independence of his race.
When the white-haired, careworn emperor looked upon his sister's son, his heart went out to him with a great yearning; for the lad was tall and strong, the lad was proud and unconquered. And Charles the Great opened his empty arms and took the boy to his heart, nevermore to be exiled from it.
Roland and his mother returned to France with the emperor to be, from that time on, part of the royal household, and to enjoy riches and honor.
But the great happiness that was Roland's was not without its heartache. He and his beloved Oliver were completely separated by this change, and drifted further away from each other with the drift of years.
As soon as Roland was grown to manhood, Charlemagne made him captain of his "peers,"--the twelve knights who, for their bravery and their trustworthiness, were chosen to be next to the emperor himself in authority.
Among all the twelve, young Roland was the most daring, the most impetuous. His splendid qualities won for him the hearts of the many; but the few were jealous of him, and charged that he exercised undue influence over the emperor and incited the white-haired Charlemagne to deeds of daring and violence that were none of his own conceiving. Chief among Roland's accusers was the envious Count Ganelon. Ganelon had become step-sire to the young peer by wedding the widowed Bertha, but the nearness of the tie between him and Roland only seemed to make him yet more bent on injuring the emperor's favorite.
However much of truth there was in the charges of Roland's enemies, this is certain,--he did become the very darling of the emperor's heart, and he did perform such deeds of daring and prowess as made even the knightly peerage of Charlemagne behold with wonder and amazement.
The first act of personal daring by which he distinguished himself was his engaging and slaying the giant Ferragus. This achievement won for Roland the hearts of the people, and led them to watch his crescent glory with national pride.
Now in these days a terrible heathen enemy threatened the Christian faith and civilization of Europe. Years before, several Mohammedan races from Asia--dark, relentless, resistless--had swept over northern Africa, and, crossing Gibraltar, overrun the fair land of Spain. North, east, and west they spread, conquering the Christians and preaching their heathen doctrines with fire and sword. So the beautiful and once Christian Spain came to be ruled for many years by the invaders, who founded cities, built palaces, and raised Moslem kings to her thrones. Nor were the Mohammedans content here. They repeatedly attempted to cross the Pyrenees Mountains and overrun the rest of Europe.
Now it chanced that just as a Moorish invasion seemed most imminent, Charlemagne had serious trouble within his own kingdom. Guerin de Montglave, Lord of Vienne and vassal to Charlemagne, revolted against the emperor.
With his usual determination, King Karl dispatched a large army against Guerin, and would have waged bloody war against him had not the peers interposed and counselled otherwise. They represented to the emperor the seriousness of beginning civil war when the Moors were daily threatening invasion from the south, and finally succeeded in getting his consent to a settlement of the quarrel with Guerin by single combat.
Guerin signifying his willingness to this plan, arrangements were soon made for the combat. As all expected, Roland was chosen to maintain the justice of the emperor's cause; and as both Roland's friends and enemies wished a happy settlement of the quarrel with Guerin, the selection was heartily approved.
Guerin de Montglave chose his youngest grandson to do battle for Vienne; and many a smile was exchanged between Franks when they heard that this young knight accepted with delight the honor that his grandsire conferred upon him.
The combat was to be held upon a small island in the Rhone, and the warriors of the two camps were accordingly grouped on opposite sides of the river, as spectators.
When Roland and his antagonist faced each other at opposite ends of the field, each armed from top to toe, each with his face concealed by his visor, they were so nearly of the same size and bearing that they might easily have been mistaken, the one for the other, but for the colors that fluttered from their lances. Yet there was almost sorrow in the ranks of Charlemagne's army for the young stranger knight so soon to be laid in the dust,--for who could hope to match with Roland?
Their sympathy was all too soon changed to astonishment, for in hardly a moment after the sound of the trumpet in signal for the onset, the champions clashed together in the center of the lists with apparently equal force. Both lances were shivered; both horses reeled from the shock; both riders kept their seats; both banks of the Rhone echoed and re-echoed with cheering.
The combatants dismounted and drew their swords. For two hours and more they fought--stroke for stroke and thrust for thrust. The spectators stood breathless with amazement. Neither champion showed sign of weakening; neither gained advantage. Suddenly, with one mighty stroke, Roland buried his blade in the shield of his antagonist so deep that he could not withdraw it, and at almost the same instant the stranger knight struck so fiercely upon Roland's breastplate that his sword snapped off at the hilt.
Having thus disarmed themselves, the two antagonists rushed together, each attempting to fling the other to earth. Long and full stoutly they struggled; and when at last it became apparent to the now silent, fearful spectators that neither would be likely to gain advantage, the combatants each suddenly snatched at the other's helmet to tear it away. Both succeeded. The straining spectators then beheld a most amazing sight. The two antagonists fell apart for an instant and looked into each others' uncovered faces, then rushed into each others' outstretched arms. This time there was no striving; they were apparently embracing each other in an ecstasy of delight.
And such was indeed the case, for the stranger knight was Oliver. For nearly three hours had he and Roland striven against each other as strangers and enemies. Now they were face to face and heart to heart after the cruel striving--after years of separation. What wonder, then, that cause and country were forgotten!
And in spite of cause and country and king and kinsman, the two boyhood comrades could not be induced to oppose each other further. Happily for all concerned, the trouble between Charlemagne and Guerin was settled in a few days in peaceful conference.
With Spurs of Gold · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.